Page 5 of The Marriage Agreement (Agreement)

My scowl at the way he grinned at her only made me not want to touch her at all. So, when he introduced her, I muttered “hello” and ignored her offered handshake. Instead, I took out my phone and pretended to answer an imaginary call, snubbing her hand completely.

Osei shot me a death stare, but I’d rather he be upset with me than I touch her and I couldn’t control what happened next. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Osei hugging her, whispering something that made her smile and kiss him on the cheek. She nodded, heading back to the hospital without a second glance, but of course, I glanced at her ass and felt a stir.Fuck!

Osei didn’t let it go. He told me how much he disliked me for acting pompous and annoying with his girl. His words,“Dele is special to me,”are something I would never forget, tearing through me as we drove to his place. He slammed my car door when I pulled up to his building. His anger didn’t stop me from paying for the teardrop diamond earring Osei wanted to buy for her birthday two weeks later, which, to my surprise, was also his birthday. I didn’t like knowing they shared a birthday and were born in the same year. I paid for his watch, making him believe that paying for her earrings was my apology to him. The truth was, I didn’t want him to give her a precious gift. I wanted to give her that gift.

I’ve avoided her like the plague and any talk about her, while torturing myself with images of her in his arms. The few times he mentioned her name—and believe me, Osei made sure not to mention her name around me since our formal introduction—was painful.

I’ve accepted that it’s probably for the best that he’s tight-lipped about the depth of their relationship. I told no one about the kiss we shared at the Halloween party. I should be upset about the fact that she’s with my brother and kissed me, a total stranger. Somehow, I find it impossible to dislike her or be upset with her for kissing me while dating my brother.

“I don’t know, but I doubt they’re together. Close, maybe, but I doubt they’re together,” Declan interrupted my rambling thoughts.

“How can you say that?” I challenged him, as if he must be blind, or so in love with Anne that his eyes weren’t working properly.

“Well, call it the fact that I can see or read these things. Now, watch,” he said.

I followed his gaze. “Osei’s hand on her is carefully placed. If he were dating her, he wouldn’t be so careful. His hand would be on her ass,” Declan succinctly stated.

He’s right. Why didn’t I see this before? I know my hand would be on her ass if she were my girl. I’ve been so consumed with them seeing each other, and my brother being tight-lipped about their relationship, that I’ve been suffering in silence.

“I suggest you make your move soon because that song they’re happily dancing to is a forever love song. And I’m sure my wife is looking for me.” The words barely left his lips when Anne showed up, pulling him to dance to the song.

Since the wedding, I’ve tried to find out more about Dele. Osei, as always, wouldn’t provide any information. His usual line of shutting me down was, “You don’t like her, so you don’t need to know about her.” I usually nodded, sometimes asking myself how he’d feel, if he only knew the truth. I told myself not to involve Bruce, the security intel in our group. He’d surely ask questions that I can’t answer.

Now, with Osei planning to marry her, it’s time I made my move. It’s a situation of act now or forever hold my wrath, because there won’t be peace for me if Osei marries Dele. I refuse to imagine her pregnant with his child. It will certainly kill me, or I’ll have to kill my brother. Devastation will come regardless of the choices, if I don’t act.

Chapter 4

LUKE

Osei arrives and drops his ass onto the chair, the same way he’s been doing since he was fifteen. Never mind that he’s now twenty-four years old. And I’m eleven years older than him.

“What is our dear mom worried about now?” His tone is nonchalant. He’s used to Mom’s constant worry.

I lean back in my chair and watch him. We look nothing alike, except for the hazel eyes we’ve both inherited from Mom. He’s the son of a professor and biracial, always laughing, while I’m the son of a real estate mogul, almost a reformed asshole, and all white, never laughing.

Mom is our link—and a hovering one at that. She fought my now-getting-reformed asshole dad to have me live with her and my stepdad, who I call Piah, a short version of his last name, Appiah. My dad agreed to give Mom full custody of me, on the condition that I never call Piah “Dad.”

Mom agreed, as long as she had full custody of me, and it was the best decision, because Piah was always there. All Ihad to do was look behind me and he was right there, making sure I had someone to count on, come rain, cold, or sunshine. Dad only showed up when he didn’t have a business meeting or when he threw money at me, insisting I spent my summers learning about the business that had made Mom file for divorce. After he’d accidentally pushed her too hard and stormed out for another meeting, she had a miscarriage because she was fighting him about going to yet another late meeting. I shut out the image and the crushed feelings of that day. It was a tragic sight to witness—my mother's suffering, and my utter helplessness to help her.

All Mom asked for in the divorce was full custody and tuition payments from my dad. She even returned every piece of jewelry he bought her. I know the fact that she returned all the jewelry still upsets him to this day.

I’d refused to spend my summers with Dad, but Piah had talked to me about the importance of understanding my dad’s work. Piah’s a smart man, for sure. Up until two months ago, Dad had tried using every tactic to force me into marriage to grow his empire, threatening to give all his wealth to charity. I’d told him to go right ahead. Like I’d suddenly be poor without his wealth.

The beauty of being raised by Piah is the way he lets you know that money is something you have, and it helps make you comfortable; it should never control your life or have a hold on it. That’s what my dad doesn’t get. Money controlled him and he lost Mom in the process of chasing it—the woman he called his only love.

The news of Dad’s cancer shocked both of us. All his wealth can’t save him. Now he’s switched from being grumpy and mean to everyone, finally realizing that I’m the only person he can call family.

He doesn’t want Mom to know about his diagnosis. I’ve kept it from her, and I’ve been taking on a more active role in the company. With his sickness comes more confessions from him. He admitted saying,“Your mother was right to have fought for full custody. With Appiah, she gave you a better life.”I nodded. Like I said, he’s getting reformed daily.

“Bro, what’s Mom’s worry this time?” Osei’s voice slices through my thoughts.

“She said you’re planning on getting married to help your friend become a U.S. citizen. Basically, you’re trying to make yourself a candidate for marriage fraud with the U.S. government. Can I ask who this girlfriend is?” I ask, my tone warning. Though, I already know; I just need to hear him confirm it.

“It’s Dele. She’s in a bind, and I’m the only one who can help her—or more like, I’m the one willing to help her.” He sends me an impish smile.

“Help her by marrying her and breaking the law?” I say, my tone harsh. But Osei can’t be bothered by it. He’s convinced of his decision, but he’s unaware of the strength of my conviction.

“No one needs to know we’re not in love; she and I are quite close, and she already moved in with me. That asshole guy she was living with stole all her money. Plus, he was making her life a living hell.” He explains, but the news of her moving in with him is all I hear. If they weren’t together before, her living with him will certainly expedite the process.

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